Bring me to Life
by Wise-Girl2468
Summary: "Life fell apart for all of us, not just me. Mom turned into a drunk and Katniss tried to care for me, but soon our drunken mother started to beat us, blaming dad's death on us. And that's when Kat left; not being able to take any more of the pain that my father's death brought us emotionally; and the pain my mother brought us physically. I've never felt so alone."
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I stare at the white wall, taking in every single detail about it. The way the blotches of paints curve to make shapes that only I can see. I haven't moved an inch since I've gotten here. They've had to knock me out to feed me, but when I wake up, I only move to sit back up and watch the wall again. The voices still talk to me but I ignore them. They first started speaking to me on that day. The day all hell broke loose and I literally lost my sanity.

Images flash through my brain as I see the events that occurred. The first image being, my dad laughing and myself on his shoulders as he pretends to be my horse. Us falling down as the loud BOOM of the gunshot hangs in the air. Myself, trying to shake my father awake as I sobbed over his body. Once they took the body away from me, that's when I started to stare blankly at walls as if they had something interesting to show me, a message that a quick glance at it could never show. It was hard on my mother and sister, too. Life fell apart for all of us, not just me. Mom turned into a drunk and Katniss tried to care for me, but soon our drunken mother started to beat us, blaming dad's death on us. And that's when Kat left; not being able to take any more of the pain that my father's death brought us emotionally; and the pain my mother brought us physically. Mom got tired of having me around so she sent me to an insane asylum instead of trying to talk to me.

I've never felt so alone. I mean, yeah, there's people here that try to talk to me and try to get me to open up and stop staring at the walls but I can't open up to these strangers. It's not like I don't want to. I want someone to help me, but the voices in my head and my feelings inside are saying no. I can feel the words I want to say rising in my throat, but they get trapped there and squeeze their way back into my mind where they will remain forever. With countless tries I realized letting words out of my mouth was pointless. I figured maybe the blank white walls had more secrets to tell than I ever could, they had their own unique stories they were dying to share with the rest of the world.

I've heard many people call me crazy- my mom said it, my doctors say it, even Katniss said it- but the reality of being insane is different than just being 'crazy.' I always thought that crazy people were the murderers and the people who did amazingly scary/interesting stuff, because that's what the world told me crazy people were. But the reality of being crazy isn't doing crazy stuff. The reality is having things stop, time going slower, suddenly everything becoming a whole lot more human, like the way I could see the wall's hidden messages and hear what inanimate objects had to say. If you were hoping for a story about a girl that goes crazy and murders a bunch of people or acts possessed, you've come to the wrong place. My story is just me slipping away from life.

I want to end it. My life, but I wouldn't know how to do it. I mean there's so many different ways. I could hang myself, but it's hard to imagine my lifeless body dangling from a rope, my eyes glazed over and skin pale. There's the option of taking too many pills, but the doctors would make that difficult because they only give me medication when I'm knocked out. I could slit my wrists, but I would have to move for that. Isn't it sad that I can't even end my life, even though it couldn't get any worse? What's wrong with me?

I need to do it. I need to end it. My life. Now. Before reality finds a way to make my life worse- if that is even possible. I guess that leaves me with one option: slitting my wrists. The easiest option. And I know exactly how to do it.

I let myself have another hour of listening to the voices telling me to end it before I actually do.

It's been exactly 3,123,973 seconds since the accident. 2, 629, 743 seconds that I've been here.

And now my waiting is up. I will join my father, and he'll give me piggy back rides. And before I know it Katniss and my mother will be with us too and we can be a big happy family. There will only be one flaw to this though. We'll all be dead.

Pale, cold, stiff, and our bodies lifeless. But maybe this will be a good thing. Everyone I love dead, all in one place. It'd be nice to see my family laying there in boxes in the ground next to me. Or maybe one of them will get cremated and they'll spill the ashes on my grave so we can always be together. Maybe we'll even all be buried together. Imagine that!

The voices tell me it's time; they scream it to me as if they're angry and have been waiting too long for my disappointing life to end! Without saying a word, I quickly and silently move to the bathroom. I try to lock the door, so no one will be able to interrupt me but the doors have no lock. So I punch the glass and watch it shatter. I quickly pick up a piece of the broken glass, knowing that I have seconds before doctors come rushing in. I slide it across one wrist, my blood staining the glass. I quickly move to the next one, knowing that I have no time to watch the blood slowly trickle down my wrists. Just as I press down on the glass a boy, about my age walks into the bathroom. He's very muscular and has brown hair and grey eyes.

As he slowly walks towards me, I slide the piece of glass across my other wrist and toss the glass aside. "You're too late you know," I snarl at him, tears streaming down my face. "You can't save me. The voices are already fading and I'm already seeing spots. It's just a matter of minutes before I'm dead. Just like my daddy."

The boy wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to him. I fall onto the floor and he does too. I slide onto his lap and wrap my arms around his waist, sobbing into this stranger's shirt.

"Just sleep," his voice whispers. "And when you wake, I promise you will be fine."

I inhale the scent of him and close my eyes.

_My dream started off like a memory._

_Look at me and daddy! Mommy!" I giggle, clutching daddy's shoulders as he pretends to be a horse. I giggle at his attempts at trying to neigh like a horse and I know daddy is smiling hearing me laugh like that, the laugh he hasn't heard in a long time. Since mom and dad started arguing, I knew that something bad was happening in our home. I found it harder and harder to be happy when I could hear my parent's cruel words through the thin walls in our house. But eventually they stopped yelling at each other and they hugged and made up. I smiled at that and things became happier again, as happy as they are now. Life was amazingly, shockingly good._

_ I smile down at my daddy, but all of a sudden I hear a BANG and blood splatters on my clothes. Daddy falls to the ground and I scream and sob as I try to make him wake up. Mom and Katniss ran over and I could see tears running down Katniss's face. We were all sobbing, but the tears were not water, for it is blood. And there's blood, blood everywhere, running from our wrists and our eyes and dripping down trees and houses._

_ Then the scene changes, we're eating breakfast. Katniss shot a bird and a rabbit for us to eat. Mom is smiling as she cooks and I'm at the table, Buttercup purring on my lap. There are only two things wrong with this perfect image: one) dad's not here; and two) the house is completely white. It's spotless, not a sign of dirt or mud or color anywhere. Even my orange cat is white. Mom's blonde hair and usual grey dress is white. She turns to look at me, and her blue eyes are white. White, white, white, everywhere I turn, white here and white there. _

_ I begin to sob and once again, the tears are blood. The only color in the room is the blood streaming down my face and the rest of my body. Mom pours me a glass of goat milk, the milk is not the creamy yellowish white it should be. It's a dark crimson. It's thicker than it should be. Blood. The perfect white room is anything but perfect now. It's decorated with the dark color of blood. _

_ I keep crying and soon there are puddles of my tears at my feet. And soon, we're all drowning in my blood tears. _

This is it, _I think to myself. _So this is what it feels like to suffocate and die. Who knew it could feel so comforting? Who knew it could be such a relief to escape this living hell?

_Then there is a body that swims through the blood, the arms of my savior wraps their strong arms around my waist and pulls me out of the blood. When we are outside, I order the blood-soaked man to open his eyes. And when he does, I get pulled into the grey pools in front of me._

**(A/N: So yeah, I don't really know what to put in this AN besides review and tell me what you thought!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_A sick grin covers my face as I stab the man in front of me with my pocket knife. He gasps for air and falls, landing on the floor with a thud, as his back hits the cold cement. _

"_This is what you get you sick bastard," I mutter stabbing him again, his blood decorating my clothes, hair and face. The warm blood hitting my cold pale skin forces giggles to escape my lips. I talk again, giggling between words. "Raping my sister…" I continue, stabbing him again, not daring to stop my constant flow of bubbly giggles. "Abusing my mother and I… Killing my father." A shocked look covers his bloody face. "Oh, you didn't think anyone saw that did you?" I say, putting a stop to the giggles. "Well I did! I saw you murder him. I saw you put that gun to his temple. I saw you pull the trigger and throw him into the freezing lake, making it seem like suicide, you sick fucker." I smile and say innocently, "Well guess what!" He gasps for air once again and I giggle before finishing. "I'm the one wielding the knife now! I am now going to get my revenge. You ruined my life, my family. You ruined everything! And now look at me! I'm not even sure I'm sane anymore!" I laugh a bubbly laugh before stabbing him in the leg. A tortured scream escapes his lips which sounds like music to my ears. _

"_Prim… Please…" He begs, moving his hands on top of my small bloodstained ones that hold the knife. _

"_Oh, you want me to end it quicker? Would you like to help?" I ask widening my smile and my big blue eyes. _

"_No you stupid fucking bitch… don't... do this…" he gasps for air again and his eyes roll back. _

"_No no no old man; you aren't getting away this easily! If I let you just die right now, it wouldn't be _me_ killing you." I slap him across the face and his eyes go back to normal. I give him a sad smile before wiping up a spot of blood on his forehead. "There we go. Now goodbye Snow, this game has honestly been a pleasure to play with you!" I say, ending his life with a single movement. _

_I grin as I begin my art piece, a picture of a red rose, his favorite flower. I decorate the wall with his blood, swirling it around to make the pretty rose. The dark liquid slowly dripping down the wall. _

_I stand back to admire my work and as I do, Katniss and my mother walk through the door, horrified looks plastered on their pale faces. My mother screams and begins to sob. Katniss yells at me. Their reactions confuses me, I mean, I did this for them. To protect them. Katniss is always trying to protect me; I didn't want to see them get hurt again, so I fixed the problem. _

"_I did this for you!" I yell at Katniss, wanting her to somehow understand that I'm just trying to help. _

"_You're so fucking stupid! You're going to be taken away from us now! They're going to think mom made you do this or something you bitch! We're going to get taken away!" She yells at me with venom in her voice. Honestly, her insult hurts. I loved my sister more than anything else and to hear those words escape from her lips, pointed towards me… It feels like the ultimate slap in the face. _

"_You're such a bitch Katniss! I did this to protect you! I didn't want to see you get hurt again!" By this point, tears threaten to spill from my eyes. But I won't give her the pleasure of seeing me cry. _

_Her expression softens and slowly, she walks over to me and takes my pale bloody hands in her warm clean ones. She looks behind me, noticing the pretty picture I painted out of Snow's blood; she frowns again, thrusting my hands away from hers._

"_You enjoyed killing him! You painted a fucking picture with his blood! Something is really wrong with you!" Katniss screams at me which just causes my mom to cry even harder. _

"_Stop it Katniss!" I yell, tears filling up in my blue eyes. "You're making mommy cry!" _

"_Seriously you're fucking stupid! She's crying because you just killed our stepdad!" _

"_I fucking hate you!" my mother and Katniss scream at me._

* * *

My heart pounds against my chest. I would say it pounds against it a mile a minute but it feels more like a mile a second. It takes me about a minute to realize that I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and tears are pouring down my face. I see people rushing around the room, but I pay no attention to them. I just continue to concentrate on my heart beat.

I continue to scream, unable to stop. The people continue to rush around the room, obviously trying to make my screaming stop, make my heart beat slow down.

I lose interest in my heartbeat, and since I cannot stop screaming, I look around the room. Rather than focusing on the walls like I usually do, I focus on everything else. A steel bed is beneath me and a single white sheet is covering my legs. A papery gown covers my body, and my long blonde hair falls down my back in two single braids. I know I am in the mental hospitals, well "hospital." I usually just refer to it as the prison because I'm mostly always down here. They don't let me go for two weeks usually and I hate it down here. So I think of it as my prison.

One particular thing catches my eyes though; another pair of eyes. Grey, is the only thing I see; a beautiful grey that is the color of steel. I know that the color of steel is not really beautiful but the emotions that are so lucid in the eyes; well that's what makes the color of steel beautiful. Flecks of sky blue and mocha brown decorate around the iris of the eyes. Thousands of different emotions run through the eyes revealing so much about him. Just one look at his eyes and you can read him like an open book. For example, so many of the emotions that give away his suffering, like pain, depression, anger, envy, guilt, hatred, frustration, loneliness, remorse, shame, and hostility all hide in the corners of his eyes. He tries to push all the emotions that make him suffer deep inside of him and show all of the good ones like, ecstasy, excitement, love, pleasure, pride, gratitude, amusement, awe, and hope. Hope is the one emotion his eyes show the most. They give you hope whenever you look into them. Hope is the one thing that will always be there for those who want it, because no matter what, there will always be hope.

You could tell that he needed the hope often, that he had a history of giving up a lot, but he always had something that kept him hopeful.

And at this particular time in my life, I needed hope more than anything else, and that's exactly what his eyes gave me. Hope.

* * *

**(A/N: So obviously this is going to be a really dark fic and I think I am mentally sane… anyways, let me know what you thought in a review or PM me, and if you have any suggestions on how to make it better just let me know! Thanks ****)**


End file.
